


You're Gonna Miss Me (When I'm Gone)

by littlesnowpea



Series: someday this pain will be useful to you [5]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesnowpea/pseuds/littlesnowpea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antti usually didn't think about it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Gonna Miss Me (When I'm Gone)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, Thomas is gone now. I DON'T LIKE CHANGE.

Antti usually didn’t think about it anymore. 

Occasionally, though, he thought about it a lot. Usually, this was when he woke up screaming, shying from Thomas and his touch, or when he played the Blackhawks and his blood ran cold for no reason. 

But other than the nightmares, and the flashbacks, and every other memory that plagued him at the most inopportune moments, he didn’t usually think about it anymore. 

Or, that’s what he told himself, anyway. And Thomas. And Brian. And anyone who asked about him or how he was.

He was _fine_.

He was fine until the day Thomas sat down with him and explained that he had to leave San Jose.

He was fine until he realized that he wouldn’t be in the same condo with Thomas anymore, that he wouldn’t hear that gorgeous laugh every day, that he wouldn’t get to tease Thomas about his truck every day.

He was fine right up until then.

That was two weeks ago and now their- _his_ \- apartment was filled with boxes and suitcases and it felt _empty_.

His cell phone rang.

He ignored it. It was a blocked number, anyway.

Besides, he really didn’t want to hear his teammates sympathy. He could handle this on his own, he really could.

So what if he felt like he was slowly cracking down the middle without the glue that was Thomas keeping him together?

So what?

He was _fine_.

_Phoenix_ , Christ. For fucks sake.

Who needed Thomas so badly in Arizona?

Antti was being selfish, he knew. He just didn’t care.

His phone rang again. He ignored it again.

“Tell me you’ll come back for Christmas?” Antti couldn’t help the pleading that entered his voice. Thomas sighed, setting down a box and kneeling in front of Antti. Antti shivered, a draft of cold air washing over him suddenly.

Thomas rubbed his hands up and down Antti’s arms, where goosebumps had sprung up.

“Antti,” he said, grasping both Antti’s hands in his own. “Everything will be ok.”

“I know that,” Antti replied, a little petulantly. “I do know that. I just miss you already and-mmph!”

Thomas kissed him like he was drowning and this kiss was the only thing on Earth thst could save him. Antti returned the kiss with as much, if not more, fervor, desperately clutching at Thomas’ shoulders.

“Please don’t go,” Antti murmured when they broke apart. “I’ll eat you up I love you so.”

Thomas smiled halfheartedly at the quote.

“I wish I could stay, babe,” he whispered softly, cupping Antti’s cheek. “I really do. More than anything, I wish I could stay.”

“Fuck Arizona,” Antti muttered, and Thomas laughed.

Unhelpful.

“We’re going out to dinner tonight,” Thomas reminded Antti. “And please, show me that beautiful smile.”

Antti grinned against his will and groaned at the opening strains of a crooning country song.

“Your phone,” Thomas said, purposefully obnoxious. Antti rolled his eyes and pinched his ass as he got up to finish moving boxes to the opposite end of the room.

“Hello?” he answered, though he’d be more happy to let it go to voicemail.

“I’m sorry.”

Antti never hung up a phone that fast in his life.

“Who was it?” Thomas asked with concern, staring at Antti’s slightly strangled-looking face. 

“Wrong-wrong number,” Antti said dazedly, the lie obvious to anyone with their sense of hearing intact. He didn’t usually lie, especially not to Thomas, but he couldn’t help it. His heart was pounding and his head was filled with two words in Cristobal’s voice.

_I’m sorry_.

\--

“Blocked” called again eight more times before Thomas answered when Antti was asleep.

“Hello?”

“....Antti?”

“Not available. May I take a message?” Thomas asked, just barely remembering his manners. It wasn’t his fault- it was six in the morning on his and Antti’s last day together and he just wanted to curl around Antti and forget everything else.

“I’m really not sure how I would phrase this.”

“Who’s calling, please?” Thomas asked, heart sinking. It wasn’t Finland with bad news about Antti’s family, right? No. the accent was wrong. So it couldn’t be. Right?

“Uh, a friend of Antti’s. You know what, I’ll call again later. It’s not important. Thank you.”

The caller hung up before Thomas could interrogate him further and he was left staring at his phone with a bewildered look on his face.

That was bizarre. 

\--

 

Antti finally met his wits end that same day (a Tuesday, an apparently very cold Tuesday) after nearly fifty missed calls with no voicemail left at all.

“Why are you calling me?” he hissed into the phone, by way of ‘hello’. “Why can’t you leave me alone, you-”

“I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said,” Antti spat. “Forgive me for not believing one word of it.” 

“I heard you have a new boyfriend.”

“I heard you don’t control my life anymore,” Antti retorted.

Cristobal- because that’s who this was, clearly Antti needed this in his life, especially now- sighed and a fresh wave of rage swelled inside Antti.

“Antti,” Cristobal began, but Antti overrode him.

“How _dare_ you?” he began, fury consuming his words like fire consumed Antti’s only picture of them together. “How dare you do everything you have done, not only to me but to others as well, and then come back and say you’re _sorry_ , like that means something, like that fixes anything at all. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I lost my temper that night at your apartment,” Cristobal lied cooly. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Bullshit you “didn’t mean to”,” Antti said angrily. “How do you try and _drown someone_ and “not mean to” do it? And that’s not even the point, the point is everything else you did-”

“Like what?” Cristobal was getting angry now, too, and a small hint of fear curled in Antti’s heart, but he shoved it away. He didn’t have time for that.

“Fuck off.”

“I am _sorry_.”

“Why, because I’m a Vezina candidate and you never will be?” Antti absolutely _relished_ being the asshole for once. He didn’t even feel bad. Cristobal deserved worse.

“Now Antti,” Cristobal sighed again and Antti’s temper flared.

“Don’t patronize me,” Antti snapped.

“I’m not, I’m trying to calm you down,” Cristobal was most definitely patronizing now, condescending even.

He wasn’t sorry. Not in the least bit. He just wanted to be able to sleep better at night.

Antti briefly hoped Cristobal had a terminal illness, and that that was the reason he was making false apologies.

Antti was done.

“Call me again and I call the police,” Antti said, after a long pause of trying to come  
down from his rush of fury. “Goodbye, Cristobal.”

Antti ended the call and all but threw his phone onto the bed, scrubbing his hands across his face and screaming into them in frustration. He saw more than he heard Thomas enter the room slowly and shivered and the sudden cold that crawled its way up his spine.

“Holy shit, babe,” Thomas’ voice sounded incredulous, like he’d never seen someone that angry before. 

(Odds were, he hadn’t.) 

He approached carefully as Antti looked over at him with tear-filled eyes.

“Why, Thomas?” Antti choked out. “Why did he have to call me? Why won’t this just leave me _alone_?”

“I don’t know, babe,” Thomas whispered, holding out his arms and finding them filled almost instantly with a sobbing Antti. “I really don’t know.”

\--

Antti couldn’t stop thinking about Cristobal after that. He couldn’t stop flinching every time Thomas drew near, he couldn’t have sex with Thomas (even though he knew Thomas would be gone in a few days, even though Thomas had pushed his departure date just for Antti, even though Thomas said he didn’t owe him anything), he couldn’t even breathe when Brian called after Thomas had called him.

Poor Thomas was way out of his depth. He was damn good at whatever it was that he was doing, but he was completely at a loss ever since Antti finally confessed to him what had transpired during his previous relationship.

He thought about Cristobal a lot, and whenever he did, he shivered, cold taking over his body, completely uninvited. He seemed to be always cold, shivering, like Thomas’ leaving and Cristobal calling was the beginning of something dark.

Antti didn’t want dark. His relationship with Cristobal had been dark from the very first hit and he didn’t want that anymore.

So why was it coming back?

_“Did you seriously just drop that plate?” Cristobal was drunk. Very drunk. And apparently disproportionately angry at the tableware that Antti had mishandled out of the dishwasher._

_“Shit, I’m sorry Cris,” Antti apologized, bending down and picking up the larger pieces._

_“Careful of your feet, Jesus Christ,” Cristobal muttered something in French under his breath and Antti rolled his eyes at the wall opposite._

_“Don’t you fucking roll your eyes at me,” Cristobal hissed, grabbing Antti’s arm. Hard._

_“Ow, ugh, Cris, you’re hurting me, stop!”_

_“Good, you little-”_

_Apparently out of words, Cristobal shook him hard, so hard that the breath was jerked out of Antti’s lungs and he was left gasping for air._

_“Don’t you ever disrespect me like that agin,” Cristobal hissed, and slapped Antti across the face._

There had been apologies then, too, and kisses and promises of never hurting Antti ever again, more and more lies, lies that held the relationship up on fragile strings.

Antti can’t remember the first time without remembering when he told Thomas, and that memory constricts his throat because that beautiful man is leaving him in two days and there’s nothing he can do about it.

_“Shit shit shit,” Antti was panicking, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the glass he’d dropped- mishandled out of the dishwasher again. “I’m so sorry, Thomas.”_

_“It’s fine, just leave it, I don’t want to you to cut yourself,” Thomas waved dismissively and started to walk toward Antti._

_Antti flinched involuntarily and Thomas froze._

_Antti was shaking, trembling hard, bracing himself for a hit, knowing that this was it, there was no place safe for him._

_But Thomas did not hit him. Instead, he eased himself down to where Antti was crouched to pick up the glass and gently laid a hand over Antti’s._

_“Tell me,” he said simply._  
   
And Antti did. 

\--

“Here,” Thomas held the wine bottle out to Antti, who held out his glass with a smirk in return. Thomas laughed but obliged, pouring some out for Antti, who blew a kiss at him in thanks.

Thomas reached across the table and tugged Antti’s hand into his. Thomas’ hands were cold, cold like Antti felt.

Thomas didn’t seem affected and smiled, the low lighting of the restaurant making his dark features stand out even more than usual. Antti had a sudden urge to kiss him, deep and slow.

He was never much for self control, so he did it anyway, an action that didn’t seem to  
bother Thomas in the slightest, if his eager return of the kiss was anything to go by.

“Can I ask you a question?” Thomas murmured into Antti’s ear when they finally pulled apart. Antti grinned up at him, feeling slightly drunk.

“Yeah,” Antti replied lazily, sipping the last of his wine and setting the glass down on the table.

Thomas didn’t say a word, instead slipping off his chair and kneeling on the ground in front of Antti. 

Antti flushed immediately, eyes wide, and began shaking his head.

“Thomas, what are you doing?” he hissed, casting a glance around the restaurant. Thomas just smirked over Antti’s embarrassment, grabbing Antti’s hand before he could run for it.

Thomas really knew Antti too well.

“Antti Niemi,” Thomas began. “I think I have loved you from the minute we met in Vancouver. I have certainly loved you from our first date and I could never leave your side. Ever. Everything about you is wonderful and perfect and I absolutely adore you, Antti.”

There was a lump the size of Finland in Antti’s throat as he watched Thomas with eyes rapidly filling with tears. This was really happening.

“So, that being said,” Thomas continued, pulling a box from his pocket and opening it with shaking fingers. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, my god,” Antti said, voice choked. He covered his mouth before nodding rapidly, grinning over the unshed tears in his throat. “Yes, Thomas, yes!”

The tables around them burst into applause and Antti reached out and wiped away a tear on Thomas’ cheek before kissing him chastely.

“Yes, Thomas, I’ll marry you,” he whispered, and Thomas grinned wide, his cold lips meeting Antti’s own.

\--

Antti woke up with a gasp to heavy, oppressive snoring.

His eyes fluttered between open and closed, and his chest absolutely ached, ached like someone had taken an ax to it and left him with the ruined remains of his heart.

He sighed shakily, easing himself back into the pillows he’d jerked from upon awakening. He slowly turned onto his side, careful not to disturb the other occupant of the bed, and looked out the rain-soaked window.

Chicago twinkled back at him through the precipitation, though the lights were much brighter and clearer than before he’d fallen asleep.

Antti closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

The air conditioning was on too high, like always.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry.


End file.
